Текст и перевод песни Alberto Cortez - El Vagabundo

El Vagabundo

Era callejero por derecho propio
Su filosofía de la libertad
Fue ganar la suya sin atar a otros
Y sobre los otros no pasar jamás.

Aunque fue de todos nunca tuvo dueño
Que condicionara su razón de ser
Libre como el viento era nuestro perro
Nuestro y de la calle que lo vio nacer.

Era un callejero con el sol a cuestas
Fiel a su destino y a su parecer
Sin tener horario para hacer la siesta
Ni rendirle cuentas al amanecer
Era nuestro perro y era la ternura,
Esa que perdemos cada día mas
Y era una metáfora de la aventura
Que en el diccionario no se puede hallar.

Digo nuestro perro porque lo que amamos
Lo consideramos nuestra propiedad
Y era de los niños y del viejo pablo
A quien rescatara de su soledad.

Era un callejero y era el personaje
De la puerta abierta en cualquier hogar
Y era en nuestro barrio como del paisaje
El sereno, el cura y todos los demás.

Era el callejero de las cosas bellas
Y se fue con ellas cuando se marchó
Se bebió de golpe todas las estrellas
Se quedó dormido y ya no despertó
Nos dejó el espacio como testamento
Lleno de nostalgia, lleno de emoción
Vaga su recuerdo por los sentimientos
Para derramarlos en esta canción.

Al fin y al cabo amigos míos,
No era mas que un perro...

The Vagabond

He was a street dog by his own right
His belief in freedom
Was to gain his own without tying others
And not to ever step on others.

Although he belonged to all he never had an owner
That would condition his reason for being
Free as the wind our dog was
Ours and from the street that saw him born.

He was a street dog with the sun on his back
Loyal to his destiny and to his thinking
Without having a time to take a nap
Nor to give account to the sunrise
He was our dog and he was tenderness,
That which we lose more every day
And he was a metaphor for the adventure
That you can't find in the dictionary.

I say our dog because what we love
We consider as our property
And he belonged to the children and to old Pablo
Whom he saved from his solitude.

He was a street dog and he was the character
Of the open door to any home
And he was in our neighborhood like the scenery
The policeman, the priest and all the others.

He was the street dog of the beautiful things
And he left with them when he left
He drank all the stars in one gulp
He fell asleep and didn't wake up again
He left us space as a testament
Full of nostalgia, full of emotion
His memory wanders through feelings
To pour them out in this song.

In the end my friend,
He was nothing more than a dog...